the distance between
by nowordswriter
Summary: The distance between Melbourne and Burgess is 17424 km. Prequel to Meet the Pitchiners


The morning begins with a screeching alarm and a two-worded text. Aster reaches for the phone first. The sun streams through the blinds and splays across his smile. He hits the snooze button and texts back.

_evenin, jackie_

He's brushing his teeth when the phone buzzes. Aster gargles, spits, and checks his inbox. A laugh darts out his throat. He shakes his head and thumbs the keys.

_you're horrible, frostbite_

Coffee follows, with two slices of toast and a healthy spread of jam. His left hand nurses the heated mug. His right hand fiddles with the phone. Steam curls about the curve of his lips and warmth collects in the corner of his eyes. Aster types out an eight-lettered reply, his last before work. The phone buzzes with the echo of a kiss.

_The distance between Melbourne and Burgess is 17424 km._

There is a chocolate shoppe tucked in the folds of Melbourne, in the sigh of a sleepy street. It is famous for its handmade chocolates, crafted from well kept, family recipes. Ever since his old man died, bless his stuck up soul, Aster worked as its shopkeeper.

Mrs. Brandybuck visits with her usual order.

"Oh Aster, dear. When will you settle down? The clock is ticking, you know."

Aster plasters on his storefront smile and rings up her purchases.

"Come again soon, Mrs. Brandybuck."

_The trip would take 30 hours by plane, 20 months by boat, and 6 years on foot._

The early hours are spent in relative silence. Aster boots up his laptop and checks his email. There are several messages marked urgent, all sent by jokullfrosti1712 , all links to cute cat videos. Yesterday, it had been puppies. He shakes his head.

A high school boy waxes poetic about a girl in his class. He drapes himself over the counter, peering through the glass. She's got sun-kissed skin, feather-soft hair, and a smile that lights up her eyes.

"You know what I'm talking about right, mate?"

Aster thinks of shaky webcam feeds and laughter like whispering ice. He nods. Yeah, he knows.

Aster used to be a nature photographer. He went everywhere, roaring down the outback and stomping through the bush. His travels flung him far and away, past the horizon and the sunsetting sea. He lived fast and free with only the open road for company. Or he used to.

His old man's passing dragged him back home. He hung up his rucksack and kicked off his boots. His boomerang locked in duct tape and carboard. His camera sold for a month's worth of food. He planted his feet in the carpets of his flat, staring at white-washed walls. He spent the night drinking.

_A ticket would cost $1500._

Aster whistles a jaunty tune, inspecting his newest batch of bonbons. A couple passes by the shop window. He watches them out the corner of his eyes. Contentment curls along their lips, shoulders kissing with every step. Their pinkies peek out of sweater sleeves and twine together. The boy laughs and points. The girl turns to look. He pitches forward, pressing his smile to skin.

The phone buzzes.

_Aster only has $1000 saved._

The first week was rough. There was an itch in his bones and a fire in his veins. He had too much time and too little sky. The rest scraped away by the city's concrete claws. Aster wanted out.

Relief arrived the following week. His old man's mate, Ombric stopped by for a visit. He brought a student of his, William. Aster told them business was fine. The shoppe was a local favorite. But William thought it could use more advertisement. He suggested a web page and offered his expertise.

The side project introduced Aster to the internet. He got a crash course on social media. It gave him a blinding headache. He hadn't touched technology in years. The most hi-tech he got was his camera. But he had to admit, the internet was a sight useful and bloody addicting.

He ignored Facebook and Twitter. He never cared for anyone's businness and didn't want anyone prying into his. He liked his privacy, thanks very much. But he liked Youtube and Tumblr alright, mostly for the the fluffy kitten videos. He was a sucker for anything adorable. William set him up with a Tumblr account and insisted on making a food gif set. He thought it would be great publicity for the shoppe. He filmed Aster making his old man's famous E. Aster Eggs, bonbons shaped like eggs with a delicately painted shell.

It started with a snowflake icon and eight words.

jokullfrosti1712 reblogged your photo: E. Aster Eggs  
oi dipshit thats not how you spell easter

There was a bitchfight of epic proportions.

North bursts into his shoppe seconds before closing time. The wanker. They met at a nearby pub and sparked a small hockey riot. They spent the night in a jail cell. North hasn't left him alone since. He seems to think they are the best of friends. Aster got tired of correcting him.

"You look tired, comrade."

"Yeah. It's the Valentine rush, you know?"

"Ah, but that is not for customer."

North nods at the bonbon in Aster's hand. Its milk chocolate shell decorated with exceedingly fragile snowflakes. North flashes him a knowing smirk, eyes twinkling with laughter. Aster tries not to punch him.

_The distance between Melbourne and Burgess is 17424 km._

A month passed before Aster could properly notice. Business boomed from the new advertising. His days were busier, crazier, and Aster enjoyed every second. Running the shoppe came with its tiny, infinitely fleeting delights. Treasures tucked in little girls and their warm, open eyes, in knobby kneed lovers with hope in their sighs. Aster relished these sun-filled shop hours.

But the nights grew darker, colder. His sole saving grace was a secondhand laptop and an all too familiar username. Every time Aster logged on, there would be another reply, another comeback, another snappy retort. He got a good laugh out of a few. jokullfrosti1712 had a decent sense of humor, for an absolute bastard.

Their everyday squabbling passed the long, dull hours between work. It distracted Aster from the hollow silence of his flat. They would bicker or quibble or tease or banter. On and on, it went. They were too proud to loose, too stubborn to surrender. Their snarking hijacked the rest of Tumblr. The moderators threatened to ban them.

"So, I have been thinking."

"There's a bad sign."

"I go back to States in three weeks."

"Finally."

"You should come with me."

"What? Why?"

"Your sweetheart is in New York, yes?"

"Look, mate. That's real kind of ya. But I don't take charity. So thanks, but no thanks."

_The distance between Melbourne and Burgess crosses an ocean and a continent._

It started with a trolling truce and a skype chat. It started with a proper conversation riddled by memes. It started with the sun spilling across the screen and Aster realizing he spent the whole night talking to jokullfrosti1712. It started with a name.

[10:31:07 PM] jokullfrosti1712: its jack  
[10:31:17 PM] jokullfrosti1712: jack frost  
[6:31:57 AM] springfever68: like the fairytale chap?  
[10:32:10 PM] jokullfrosti1712: yes  
[10:32:15 PM] jokullfrosti1712: shut up  
[6:32:45 AM] springfever68: i didn't say anything  
[10:33:00 PM] jokullfrosti1712: you were thinking it  
[6:33:12 AM] springfever68: u mad, frostbite  
[10:33:25 PM] jokullfrosti1712: frostbite  
[10:33:30 PM] jokullfrosti1712: really  
[10:33:40 PM] jokullfrosti1712: is that gonna be a thing now  
[6:34:20 AM] springfever68: you mean, if we keep in touch?  
[6:35:00 PM] jokullfrosti1712: are we

The bloke had a habit of forgetting his punctuations. But Aster saw the question mark just fine. He paused in his typing. He thought about replies and responses greeting him after work. He thought about sniping and snarking and laughter stolen from his lips. He thought about his blood burning, the calm chafing, the walls closing in, when a new reblog, a new post, a new nuisance saved him from his skin. He thought of home curled in the space between letters.

In the early morning light, Aster decided peace felt too empty.

[6:37:25 AM] springfever68: yeah, frostbite, we are. and yeah, that's gonna be a thing.  
[10:37:35 PM] jokullfrosti1712: man screw you

_The distance between Melbourne and Burgess crosses 9 time zones._

"Shostakovich!" North grabs a hold of Aster's shoulders, giving him a good shake. "It is not charity. It is friendship! You can pay for return ticket, whatever makes you happy. But oh holy night, Aster! Do not waste oppurtunity because of foolish pride!"

The name gained a voice. The voice got a face. The face grew a smile. The smile woke Aster every morning, hidden in two worded texts.

Aster learned of Jack's penchant for ice sculptures. Jack learned of Aster's weakness for baby animals. Aster shared his daily details and everyday mishaps. He talked about schoolboys with their pockets full of pennies, about flirty housewives with their corny pickup lines, about old married couples with their time-withered hands clasped together. Jack shared his mundane moments and hush-a-bye hours. He sent snapshots of a new hairtsyle (washed white and windswept), of his finished projects (silk-smooth flowers carved from ice), of the first snowfall and the view from his window (the kiss of his breath against the frosted glass). Byte by byte, they shared their lives, curling in the corners of minutes, hiding in the silence of seconds. And in between beer cans and coffee cups, in between dreaming awake and slurring out secrets, in the eternity between replies, Aster fell in love.

He fell before the flickering screen and the empty chat box. He fell for the buzzing phone and the messages in his inbox. He fell on friday nights, in the five hour video calls lasting till sunrise. He fell in love the way hands bloomed open. Naked palms outstretched and hungry. Starlit wishes held in the unfurling fingers.

_The distance between Melbourne and Burgess is 17424 km._

[12:45:25 AM] springfever68: did you get my package  
[8:45:35 AM] jokullfrosti1712: oh i got your package alright  
[8:45:43 AM] jokullfrosti1712: i gotta say its bigger than i thought  
[12:45:50 AM] springfever68: you are incorrigible  
[8:45:56 AM] jokullfrosti1712: i will take that as a compliment  
[12:46:01 AM] springfever68: but no really  
[8:46:08 AM] jokullfrosti1712: chill bunnyfoofoo i got it  
[12:46:20 AM] springfever68: so what'd you think?  
[8:46:25 AM] jokullfrosti1712: its not bad  
[8:46:29 AM] jokullfrosti1712: not bad at all  
[12:46:39 AM] springfever68: you loved it  
[8:46:44 AM] jokullfrosti1712: heh never said i didnt ;)  
[12:46:50 AM] springfever68: rolling my eyes, frost  
[8:46:54 AM] jokullfrosti1712: seriously tho  
[8:46:54 AM] jokullfrosti1712: thanks  
[12:47:00 AM] springfever68: happy valentines, jackie  
[8:47:03 AM] jokullfrosti1712: happy vday buns  
[12:48:33 AM] springfever68: so, uh, you busy on the 5th?  
[8:48:37 AM] jokullfrosti1712: of march  
[12:48:40 AM] springfever68: no, april  
[8:48:45 AM] jokullfrosti1712: dunno  
[8:48:47 AM] jokullfrosti1712: probably not  
[8:48:47 AM] jokullfrosti1712: why  
[12:48:59 AM] springfever68: i got a friend going over to the states. he said i could tag along for the ride  
[8:49:08 AM] jokullfrosti1712: no way  
[12:51:25 AM] springfever68: so i mean, if you want to. we could go on a date, maybe?  
[12:51:28 AM] springfever68: no pressure or anything  
[12:54:45 AM] springfever68: it's just i keep seeing all these couples. they come into my shoppe, all kissing and cuddling, sweeter than the goddamn chocolate. and i never bought into that sappy froo froo bunk hollywood tries to pass for romance. but fuck, if i dont think about you and about us whenever i see them lovebirds or whenever i hear some two bit love song.  
[12:54:48 AM] springfever68: and bloody hell, i love you  
[12:54:55 AM] springfever68: i love you so much it drives me bonkers  
[12:54:55 AM] springfever68: and  
[12:56:10 AM] springfever68: and please feel free to shut me up

Aster pushes himself away from the keyboard. A shiver dances on his skin as he stares half dazed at the words, screaming internally. The seconds trickle by, each more painful than the last. The skype icon blinks.

[9:00:07 AM] jokullfrosti1712: if i could  
[9:00:20 AM] jokullfrosti1712: i would push you up against the wall and kiss you senseless  
[9:00:25 AM] jokullfrosti1712: so hurry up and get your butt here  
[9:00:26 AM] jokullfrosti1712: now

A hoarse laugh bubbles out of his chest. He melts open the way winter melts to spring, quietly and violently. Aster shakes his head.

[1:00:50 AM] springfever68: it's a date, frostbite

_The distance between Aster and Jack is 0._


End file.
